Finding
by carbontetrachloride
Summary: An attempt to describe emotions and observations in first person. DL.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This whole thing was conceived out of boredom, and out of a hyperactive imagination. It may not be a true reflection of the characters' personalities in the show because..well, I haven't really watched the show. I'm making an attempt at characterization here, may be a wild stab though, since I'm working on fictional characters whom I am unfamiliar with. I have to warn that this storyline (or lack thereof) may be a little on the dramatic side, and I'm not sure if it's very realistic. But I'm gonna try anyway.

* * *

**Believe**

_The soul attracts that which it secretly harbors; that which it loves, and also that which it fears. It reaches the height of its cherished aspirations. It falls to the level of its unchastened desires - and circumstances are the means by which the soul receives its own.  
- James Allen

* * *

_

I didn't know what to believe. I knew he was sincere, but I didn't know if I could trust myself to believe he was sincere. Then again, I didn't quite know if I knew; after all, knowledge is justified true belief.

When we kiss, the sky disappears, fireworks fly, and I get warm inside.

Is that justification strong enough for me to believe I love him? The relationship was new, barely a month old, and I was afraid. I never dared to stay the night, for fear it would transcend into a night I would never forget but want to forget. I was terrified that the 'thing' between the two of us would get shot to hell so fast we don't even see it coming. And I knew I was going to be wholesomely mortified if certain other things happened. So maybe, contrary to popular belief, I am the insecure one. Not Danny.

I've taken a look at _him_, seen the broken soul behind those ten feet walls. Even if it was just a glimpse, I recognized its beauty, desperately seeking approval and attention.

Mac assigned us both to a rape case. I wonder if Mac knew of our secret relationship. I hoped not; the whole point of it being a secret was to hide it from him. However, the grim looks he has been casting at Danny and I have been disconcerting. Being a CSI meant you were more attentive than the average person. Who knows what Mac has observed between us?

The rape case involved a girl, Helen DeGauss. Young, white, and just a little over twenty. She basically backed away from Danny and Flack once they stepped into the room. So guess who got to question her? As I observed her, I felt a twinge of contempt for men. Men and their damn anatomy that let them commit some heinous crimes without having to bear physical and psychological damage. They wouldn't feel the pain of being violated, didn't have to panic if they were going to get pregnant, couldn't understand the shame and hate of having a part of someone else being forced into them. I made it a point to ask Danny what men gained from raping women, because this version of a twisted sense of pleasure is something I will never get.

I may be making an assumption here, but most men live for food and sex. I wondered about Danny there for a second. As rumors have it, he was a typical player, I trait I am disgusted by. It puzzles me as to what made him so attractive. It definitely wasn't his sexiness that made my heart beat faster. There was certainly something more to him, as a person, which made him intriguing and enchanting.

Helen was distraught, cowering and stuttering as she spoke. My heart went out to her. I encouraged her to recount the story, knowing that it would be hard. I already gave her credit for being brave enough to report the case, all by herself. I doled out tissues, which she sobbed into; a completely pitiful sight that disgusted me at the same time.

She spoke of her rape, and the violence of everything sickened me. Helen was at home when her boyfriends' best bud arrived, two bottles of wine in tow. His name, she told me, was Ethan. Ethan had smiled charmingly at her, claiming he had had a bad day, and needed a drinking partner. Helen agreed, but only wanted at most two classes; she had to go to college the next morning. The next thing she knew, she felt stoned and too weak to fight back when he pushed her none too gently into the couch. Helen said she cried out in pain when he ripped her clothes off and forced her legs apart. She didn't need to tell me anything more, the medical report delivered ten minutes before she arrived informed us of the brutality involved. No matter how technical and emotionless reports can get with medical jargons, it is quite impossible to completely remove the fear factor of having a grown man's fist stuck up your nether region.

I escorted her out after she dried her hears, giving her the only form of comfort I could offer while remaining professional.

"Here's my card. If you ever see him again, call me. We'll try to get him as soon as possible."

I managed to slide in a comforting smile, at least it was meant to be comforting. She left, a female police officer drove her away, and I wandered slowly back to the lab, where Danny was waiting for me.

* * *

I was working on the pubic hair combings when Lindsay entered, looking not too happy.

"How'd it go?"

"Poor girl's in a mess," she collapsed into a swivel chair, "What can I do? Have you finished the fiber analysis?"

I shook my head and watched as she closed her eyes. "Okay, I'll get started on it, I guess." In the simplest of ways I admire this girl. She is strong and determined, and had such a pure and good hard it makes me wonder why I treated Lindsay with such animosity when she arrived. Maybe because both of us were constantly and simultaneously vying for Mac's attention, and she was great in what she did.

I liked the way she never pretended. For the not so short time I've known her, I think she's one of the most truthful people I've met. Of course, Aiden was one of a kind. But they're different; one a sister, the other a lover. While I miss horsing around with Aiden in the lab, I definitely do not wish Lindsay had never come to New York. If only both of them could be in the lab, at the same time, they'd probably be good friends. I still kept in touch with Aiden, in fact, she was the one who told me weeks ago that she heard from Stella that I was smitten with her replacement. At that point of time, I found myself caught between conflicting feelings of amusement, realization and denial.

I've gotta thank Stella. That woman and I don't know what magic she worked managed to make Lindsay and I realize the mutual attraction. I can't actually pinpoint what she had done, but she was the Cupid who nudged us closer.

As I sifted through the collection of hair, I let my mind wander to the status of our relationship. I want to believe she's the one for me. I don't want it to be just a lucky guess or a pointless gamble. This investment is a huge one on my part, which is why I am willing to wait. I'm waiting for Lindsay to give me a sign that she wants me as much as I want her. For once in my life, I'm actually finding myself thinking of a future ahead.

However, the believer needs some way to recognize that his beliefs are true. I believe I am still waiting for that piece of evidence to stick out, starkly truthful, to appear before my eyes.

Damn, if only I had the vaguest of ideas of what that piece of evidence looks like. That way, I'd be able to search for it.

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A/N: Do review:) Tell me if it stinks, or if it's too far-fetched. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Shorter chapter, and this is where the far-fetchness begins, at least I think so. The grammar is getting a bit weird, hopefully it still works :) This isn't the best chapter ever.

Disclaimer: The cast of CSI:NY is not my property. Everything else is.

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**Premises**

I knew of Danny's cascading list of ex-girlfriends and knew of the 'playboy' label he had attached to his ass, but I never believed he was a player. I thought he just didn't know what he was finding, and he thought he couldn't handle commitment. I don't know…I think he can, except that he's afraid it'll all come crashing down on him. Danny is respectful to women. I know that for sure whenever I see a fire blaze in his eyes every time a case involves an abused female or child. So, _no_. He's not a player in my eyes; he's just a big 'fraidy cat who messes things up (on purpose) whenever they grow too comfortable.

Yet, after today, I'm not sure if I can give him the same credit I've always given him. I thought everything was fine and dandy; I was giving him space, and he was giving me mine. But right now, I'm thinking twice about listening to my heart over my head, ironic huh?

They say if you start from true premises and use only valid arguments, everything that you deduce is guaranteed to be true. The way things are turning out, I wonder if I ever started from a true premise. Or was our entire "relationship" based on a lie?

The day started off on a weary note, I thought it was because of Helen's case. Yet, as the day played out I couldn't help but wonder if the grayness was the opening of a tragic aria.

He kissed another woman, damn it!

And he had to do it at the crime scene, with me on the opposite side of an ajar door. The sight just made my heart clench and my blood boil with fury. I was absolutely outraged, the crushed feeling only hit me later when I climbed into the car, next to him, to return to the lab. It was damn near impossible but I managed to postpone the onslaught of tears threatening to fall. I focused on the scenery zooming past me, and purposefully ignored whatever he was saying. Soon, I was lost in my own thoughts, each filled with increasing amounts of rage and sorrow, and was only vaguely aware that he was rambling on about the case.

For a brief moment I wanted to lash out at Danny to stop trying to create conversation. I didn't feel like opening my mouth, much less speak to him.

There was a huge sob fighting its way out of my throat… _The slime ball._

I hated how the emotions were controlling me. I hated what Danny could do to me.

* * *

Lindsay was staring out of the window, her mouth pinched together and her shoulders tense.

"Are you okay?" I asked, out of concern. She looked upset and that was probably an understatement. The case probably got her thinking about the slime balls who reside on this earth along with everyone else. She didn't respond though, so I decided to rattle on about the case. I got the feeling she wasn't even listening to me, but her eyes were wide open and it looked as though she was deep in thought. Sometimes, the woman thought too much, it was almost as though she thinks about how to feel. But it's cute; it makes me smile whenever she begins a sentence with 'I think'.

I let the silence pass, figuring she would tell me whatever was plaguing her mind after work. After all, she_ is_ my girlfriend.

Speaking of girlfriends, I can't believe I met Lisa at the scene. Lindsay was processing the inside and I was taking a look at the tyre marks on the front porch. And Lisa, one of my 'conquests' from high school appeared from behind me. We had some great times together, but that was a decade ago, the memories shelved into a cluttered mess at the back of my mind.

Lisa grabbed and embraced me. "Hi!" She yelled not too softly in my ear. I hugged her back, it'd been a long time, almost a decade, since I last saw her. Then she kissed me. Holy cow, she was kissing me! On impulse, I kissed her back. After a while, I didn't keep track how long, I pushed her back. It struck me midway that I was doing something very wrong. Besides, now that I've tasted Lindsay, I can't compare her sweet intoxication with any other woman's.

"Shit! Lisa, what was that for?"

"Goodbye," she smiled, I saw a small blush color her cheeks, "I'm engaged now."

I was astonished. "You? Engaged? What happened to party-all-night-and-score-some-guys Lisa?"

She grinned shyly, "She died after college, Danny. Thing's change."

I gave her a sincere smile; there was nothing I could say to deny the fact.

"I'll send you an invitation." She called before waving and running down the street.

I went back to processing, but the smirk never quite left my face. It wasn't everyday you get to meet an old friend with whom your relationship didn't turn sour.

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A/N: All will turn out well for the two of them, so don't worry. :P Do review, and feel free to tell me how illogical and unrealistic this is. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I decided that these belong together, and the chapter title needed changing. Some slight editing done, not very noticeable though. I hope it reads more coherent now (:

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**Confusion**

It took a lot of effort to distract myself from thinking about Danny, which ironically, was distracting me from my work. I couldn't utter a single word to him. In the lab full of CSIs and lab technicians, I couldn't very well scream or curse at him, which was the most probable consequence should I open my mouth. Somehow, I managed to leave the lab without him noticing. I needed to get home.

I needed to cry. I needed to lock myself away from the rest of the world and withdraw into the safety of my room.

The ride back on the subway was calming. There was a certain beauty in watching the half empty train empty out, and snoozing people scattered across the cabin. It's been some time since I've sat on the subway at 10 at night; recently Danny's been driving me home. I'd gotten use to this arrangement and it got me thinking. The ride back, alone, was somewhat symbolic, like I could live without him. I didn't depend on him. I did not need him.

Or did I?

My apartment offered me an odd sense of comfort I had never really relied on it to give me before. It was lonely and undecorated and I never spent much time in it. But today, I felt safe buried under the covers with the side of my face pressed into the pillow. A box of tissues set on the bed by my pillow was the only preparation I made before giving in to the dreadful torrent of emotions that had accumulated since midday.

At least the weekend had arrived and I wouldn't have to show up at work with puffy eyes, I thought, before surrendering to restive sleep. The last few fragments of thought involved a painful debate over my next course of action. It irked me; I didn't like being confused very much.

* * *

Lindsay didn't utter a single word the rest of the day. She didn't even work in the same lab as me. For a brief moment, I thought she was acting out, albeit in a very un-Lindsay like manner. However, when I combed the lab for her at half past ten, Stella told me she had already left. Then, it struck me that it could've been something I had done. What, though? 

It felt strange not driving her home. After a month I thought of her presence on these long nights as a fixture of some sort – permanent and necessary. I anticipated that sleep would fail me even before I stepped into my apartment. I didn't dare call her to ask what was wrong; some things are better done face to face.

I started planning. In the morning, I was going to buy her breakfast, dig out from the depth of her stubborn reticent soul what was amiss, kiss her better, and wrap her in my arms. It was a good plan, but a part of me wished I didn't even have to think up such plans.

* * *

If he thought he was going to kiss me and expect the hatchet to bury itself, he certainly thought wrong. His confused blue eyes told me everything when he knocked on my door this morning and expected to be let in; he didn't even know what the damn hatchet was. He was standing there, like a gormless dork, holding a white plastic bag filled with croissants and jam. The sight of him, with that mischievous grin which reeked of innocence, made me want to cry.

"Good morning, Montana."

The sound of my… pet-name stopped me from bursting into tears and instead caused the wave of rage to surge through me again.

"My name is Lindsay." I couldn't help but snark.

"Aren't you going to let me in?" He smirked and waved the plastic bag in my face. I wanted to smack it out of his hands.

"No." I had quite nearly shut the door when he used a palm to push it back before it smacked into his head. The shocked, confused look in his eyes pleased me, and hurt me at the same time.

"Lindsay?" He was hoping for an explanation now.

How was I going to answer him? Should I give him the honest version, the "go figure it yourself" version, or the sarcastic version? With the bitterness in me, I gave him the sarcastic one.

"Ooh, nothing's wrong, Danny. Except that I don't want to see you ever again."

I wanted to hurt him, I wanted to be the 'evil' one causing misery this time.

* * *

She scared me. The saccharine voice she used was coated with poisoned honey. 

"You've been crying." I noticed the tenderness beneath and the capillaries, red and vicious across the white of her eyes. Lindsay glared and pushed the door again.

I had to stick my foot out to prevent the door from crushing my nose. If I had not been so scared and worried I would've been mad.

"Are we going to fight?"

Her shoulders tensed, "If you leave, we wouldn't fight."

She looked like a painting torn into two. "Can we take this inside?" A cloud of hesitation crossed her face before Lindsay reluctantly stepped inside to let me in. She made her way to the couch and sat stiffly; I think she was trying to stop herself from crying.

"Lindsay…" I started, she looked broken, "What's going on?"

There was a flash of anger in her eyes before she stood up, towering over me. I gripped onto the coffee table I was seated on for safety. "Do me, Danny. And then, go."

I was stunned into silence. Had I suddenly woken up in the Twilight Zone? This wasn't the Lindsay I knew. The Lindsay I knew was passionate, but not angry and violent, and definitely not …whoever/whatever she was acting as now.

"Do whatever wild sexual fantasies you have involving me, Messer. Right now, and then get the hell out of my life." Her voice was soft like thunder.

I gulped; I don't think she even knew what she was saying. "Lindsay, this isn't you talking." She intimidated me so much I resorted to pleading. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

"Pfft! This is me talking. A very angry, hurt, me talking." Lindsay moved towards her bedroom. "What's wrong? You kissed another woman yesterday. Don't try to deny it. I saw you with my very own eyes! Don't give me any of that 'I didn't kiss her back' crap. You didn't even realize when I closed the front door."

I couldn't argue with her, she was absolutely right. I had kissed Lisa back. I hadn't realized Lindsay was just five feet away from where we were, behind a door.

She continued talking, the shrill tone giving way to a weary one. "Go away, Danny. I can't look at you." As the tears fell from her eyes, guilt washed over me. I had screwed up good, and that was an understatement. Had I been an optimist, ever looking for silver linings on clouds, I would've said at least I hadn't slept with Lisa. But to point that out to a woman that angry was suicide.

I moved over to her, thinking of a hundred different ways I could apologize. What I wasn't entirely prepared for was for her to be sad and furious enough to scream at the top of her voice for me to _go away_. After screaming those two words, she let out a huge sob, before locking herself in the bedroom.

This time, I had not the slightest idea what to do to even begin salvaging the situation. I left her apartment, stifling a sob of my own from escaping my lungs. Guilt was never, ever a good feeling.

And to think, yesterday my spirits had been lifted somewhat after seeing Lisa. What severe repercussions.

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Review, please.   



	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I've got this feeling my creativity level is plummeting. argh. I hope this chapter makes the impact it's supposed to. Enjoy!

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**Analyze and Realize **

I refused to shed any more tears. Leaning against the door, I felt its solidness beneath me. Surely it won't fail me? I pressed the back of my head to the door and counted, slowly, to ten.

One, two. Time taken to catch my breath and slow the heart, beating madly.

Three, four. I could still hear Danny shuffling about in the living room.

Five, six, seven, eight. The door closed with a thud, and the apartment was left in an envelope of silence.

Nine, ten. I held back the sob embedded in my throat and slid away from the door.

He was gone. _Finally._ The finality was loud, contrasting starkly against the atmosphere of my room. He may never return. What had I done?

I needed to keep my hands busy, it seemed. So I pondered over the question as I cleaned my apartment, started from the bathroom. Pulling the rag resolutely across the tiles was a distraction from the tempting appeal to cry. It worked, just as I desired, no more tears trickled across my cheeks. I did what I do best -- analyzing.

Sorting out my emotions was tough, probably because they were an intense tangle, vicious as a tumor. There was sadness; that I had lost something wonderful. Anger; because Danny had cheated on me. Regret; for the words I had said to him.

It struck me right there and then. I loved him. No, I love him. Beyond the care and concern I had for his wellbeing and the liking of his hands around mine was a deeper wanting to be with him. I wanted him to pull me in his arms but that was not possible because he was the one who had hurt me in the first place. Damn him. Good job, Lindsay, fall in love with a rumored player. Damn him, again.

* * *

I drove home, slowly. On the way, I stopped to get a six-pack. I was going to need each one of them to drown my remorse. I am a tough guy and no way was I going to cry over a woman. _Urgh._ I parked and got out, lifting the six-pack off the seat and realized that no amount of beer was going to replace Lindsay. Damn her for making me so emotional.

After three-point-five cans of beer I peered dejectedly at the other two cans sitting on the table before me. I find it strange the uncertainty of things in life. When everything is flowing along smoothly and I was certain I could do nothing to upset her terribly, I did. And in the most unexpected manner.

Some time ago I was a skeptic who believed that men can only lust and never love. Trying to get drunk over a woman never really happened to me, and here I was, gazing forlornly with my mind wandering to a certain brunette with wavy hair and big brown eyes. Yeah, I guess Lindsay's managed to creep her way into my heart, and I love her. I've never told her that before, though. Wow, not only do I fear commitment, I fear rejection. Maybe I can't trust anyone, you never know who will sell you out.

But her smile, I would kill to see her smile again. I love her voice too, not when she was screaming her lungs out at me earlier on, but when she's thinking in the lab. Her voice makes me smile and brightens my day. Before I started hallucinating of a minx from Montana I pressed number 4 on my speed dial.

I called Stella. She was probably the most sane person around to deal with this iffy situation. I couldn't possibly ask Mac, could I? He'll probably fire me, besides Lindsay would kill me if I told Mac about us. Flack? He would've screwed up the whole thing even more, and laugh his ass off once I told him what happened. The guy could be my best friend but no way is he talking to Lindsay. I figured Stella would be more successful than guys when tuning into the extremely confusing and highly sinusoidal wavelength of female logic. I'm sorry, but sometimes I really don't understand women.

My words came out in a rush. I couldn't remember exactly what I said but I hoped Stella understood the gist of my garbled message:

Tell Lindsay I'm sorry.

Not sure if my words meant quite the same thing, though.

* * *

I was beginning to spiral down a deep tunnel of thoughts when my cell phone rang. Throwing the rag back into the pail of water (I had reached my kitchen), I rushed out to find my phone.

"Hello?" I was a little worried about the identity of the caller.

"Lindsay." Phew, it was not Danny.

"Stella?"

"I'm right outside your door, can I come in?"

I hung up and smoothened my hair, before opening the door. She was standing at the threshold, curly haired and big eyed. I moved aside to let her in. "Danny sent you."

She didn't miss the accusation in my voice. "He did." Good, at least she was being honest.

"Want anything to drink?"

She awarded me with a tiny smile, "Some coffee would be nice."

I started the coffee maker and excused myself. My clothes were soaking wet from the cleaning and I was pretty sure my hair was sticking out in a dozen different directions. When I returned from my room, Stella was seated on my couch. I sat across her. "Uh…so what's up?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary," she teased, "except that I received a phone call at nine in the morning on my off day from a colleague who sounded terrible, saying that another colleague of mine was very angry at him."

The corners of my lips turned up slightly. "And did that first coworker explain the situation to you?"

"Yes, but he was distraught, and I couldn't hear him clearly. Said something about the case and you ignoring him and breakfast. If I'm not wrong there was some issue about being kicked out of an apartment and him being sorry."

"Danny didn't tell you what he did?"

Stella clasped her fingers together and sighed dramatically, "I'm guessing not, since I told you all I heard."

I got up to get her the cup of coffee, "I guess you want to know then."

"Yep."

I handed the mug to her and sat on the couch, next to her, breathing in the scent of coffee. "He kissed another woman, yesterday, at the crime scene." If it hadn't happened to me, I would've thought of a scenario as such as ridiculous and laughable.

Stella nearly spat out her mouthful of coffee. "What! That jerk!"

What could I say to that? I just nodded dumbly, misery settling like a cloud over my head once more.

"I'm sorry." Stella placed the mug down on the table, there was no more need for caffeine to stay awake, "I'm going to kill him."

"No, Stell, I have a problem."

She gave me a look, full of question and also of concern.

"I don't think I can forgive him so easily…"

"Then don't, like I said, I'm going to have a little chat with him about the definition of a relationship." She said she was going to kill him, hmm, the idea sounds pretty swell to me.

"That's not the crux of the problem," I forced myself to stare into her eyes, "I can't forgive him, and I don't want to see him, but I think I love him."

From the incredulous glint in her eyes, I think she understood what a compromising situation I was stuck in. I was grateful when she pulled me into a hug.

* * *

Trusting…now that's a tricky word. Repeat it a few more times and you really start to hate the sound of it. How do you believe the warmth in 'I trust you' when it's oozing with warmth? The word's kinda like a crook, beckoning you to trust him when he was the most cruel, twisted being alive. Maybe because it's used too much, like how 'I love you's don't mean much if you keep saying it. It's tiring, especially when you're half drunk, to think about all the double meanings behind words and hurt and pain and idiots like myself.

I've got a feeling Lindsay's got issues with faith and trust too, I see that when she stands somewhere with her arms across her chest, with a strange light in her eyes. That's why she keeps insisting she can protect herself, or that she doesn't need anyone to help her. Stubborn girl. In this semi-drunk state I find myself shaking my head gloomily, and amplifying the already huge headache I have.

What's next? I knew the question we were both going to avoid asking and answering.

_Is it over?_

I hoped Stella could have a breakthrough with Lindsay. Relationships are such tricky things; and I can't seem to remember how my skeptical viewpoint came about in the first place.

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A/N: whee! Do review and give me your honest feedbacks. Thank you. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N:Yay! I'm done with this chapter. Some grammatical errors though. bleah.  
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**Messes **

I spent Sunday window shopping. It was Stella's idea to take my mind off things. I don't think it helped much though, as I walked with her along the streets of the shopping district, my mind was in a wild rush to sort things through. By noon, Stella had three bags of clothes, make up and shoes. Judging from my empty handedness, I figured the shopping spree ware really more for her than therapy for me. Still, I was grateful for all her 'help'.

To be honest, I never enjoyed shopping much. It involved walking against huge crowds for hours, scanning endless rows of racks for something which I don't really need or don't really want. And the cumbersome need to queue for a changing room, take off my clothes and pull them on again annoyed me. Especially when I was still nursing a headache from crying and thinking hard, shopping on a Sunday sucked. I wondered why I had let Stella hoodwink me into this pointless and exhausting activity. I really don't see the point of going into Tiffany's when I can't afford a single thing in there. Except maybe the rag they use to clean the glass shelves.

We stopped late in the afternoon for lunch and Stella finally realized I hadn't bought anything.

"Lindsay! Spending is the point," she chided with a twinkle in her eyes.

I swallowed a spoonful of creamed mushroom soup before responding, "I thought the point was to be distracted?"

Stella laughed, I smiled a little, even though the situation did not amuse me at all. "Point taken."

I was halfway through my plate of spaghetti when I could no longer fight the burning urge within me to quell my curiosity.

"Have you spoken to Danny?"

She said yes.

"What did you say?"

"Told him he was a stupid, stupid man."

"That's all?" I was careful to sound less affected than I really was.

Taking a sip from the drink she had ordered, Stella leaned back in the chair and smirked. If I hadn't known better, I'd think she and Danny were related.

"I was yelling at him for two minutes straight, if that's what you want to know. I didn't say you love him, though. You oughta tell him that yourself." She chuckled. I'm glad somebody is enjoying herself tremendously. "I hung up before Danny could say anything."

_Great_. It's moments like these that I hate. I had to choose between feeling relieved or to dread the next day.

* * *

Stella was yelling so loudly I swear my eardrums are malfunctioning. If I listen hard enough her voice is buzzing incessantly, like static in a cheap radio.

"You idiot! If you had told me this was what you had done, I would not have agreed to help you! Damn, Messer, I thought you told me you wanted the relationship to work? Do you even know what a relationship is? I don't think you do, let me educate you…"

She didn't let me get a single word in. Damn, I can still remember every word she said. Not once did she mention how Lindsay was doing. Which means either Lindsay is over me, or I'm gonna die (in all sense of the word) when I see her at the lab tomorrow. What a wonderful coincidence is, that not only are we working on the same case, we share the same office.

I reckon I'm going to need a lot of chamomile tea before I fall asleep.

"Nothing stands out so conspicuously, or remains so firmly fixed in the memory, as something which you have blundered." Do mistakes really plague the rest of our lives? A little part of me agrees. It's so fitting that my last name is Messer. I have this uncanny knack of messing up the best things that happen to me. I don't know if I can ever get Lindsay to forgive me. I hope I can. I certainly don't want the only enduring memory that she has of me to be "lying, cheating scumbag". Problem is,_ how_?

* * *

Monday morning was one of the most awkward morning I've ever had in my life. We sat opposite each other, at the tables in our shared office. The awkwardness probably heightened when I sudden felt the transparency of the glass panels around me. The silence was loud, Danny kept drumming his fingers on the table, and I had to given in to clicking the top of my pen repeatedly. Eventually, we fell into rhythm, but I didn't realize the cadence we shared until it halted when a lab tech knocked and stepped in. I looked up from the photographs I had been staring at.

"DNA results are here." Janet, a rather plump blond girl with a kind face and a sweet voice, stepped into the gap between our tables.

Neither of us made the first move to accept the manila envelope she had in her hands. I stared at Danny; he refused to look back into my eyes. Janet glanced around, uncertain as to where she should place the report. Eventually, she settled for the corner of Danny's desk nearest to mine and turned to leave. The edge of her hip bumped, rather painfully, against my desk, causing the snow globe resting once so peacefully to fall with a shatter.

Foam beads and plastic pieces lay in a mess of blue oil on the floor. Janet let out an apologetic whimper and stepped back. I peered over my desk to admire the glass shards glistening in the light before looking at her. "It's alright, I'll clean it up." This triggered whole paragraphs of apologies before I stood up and moved to the rubble of a winter wonderland. "Really, Janet. It's alright. I won't hate you for this, y'know?" I attempted to force a smile, but I'm fairly certain it came out more like a grimace. She left quickly, and as soon as the door clicked back in place, I bent down and started clearing away the glass. Was I really that intimidating?

Danny got up, after some time, and squeezed into the gap to help me.

"Sorry."

He spoke against my ear, stubble brushing gloriously past my skin. What was he sorry for? The hours before, the hours after, or that the snow globe had just shattered into smithereens?

I moved away, throwing the bigger glass pieces into the trashcan. "It's over." I muttered lowly, before leaving the office in search of a broom and dustpan.

You can't scoop spilled milk back into its container.

* * *

Did Lindsay just say the relationship was over?

I watched her retreating back out of the office and stared at the mess beneath my feet. Yeah, sure, I understand relationships can be fragile, but were they this messy when they crumbled?

I knew a simple "I'm sorry" wouldn't take away all the hurt in her eyes, but I definitely wasn't hoping for her to walk away from me oozing with bitterness. She returned a while later with a broom and brushed past me to sweep the shards of glass away. It took me a moment to realize I had been standing at the same spot like a complete idiot thinking about the situation.

"Lindsay…"

"What, Messer?" Were we back to last names now?

She emptied the dustpan a little too forcefully and got on her knees to wipe the oil up with tissues. I joined her on the floor. "Can we talk?"

Her eyes met mine for a second before she got up and tossed the tissues into the bin. "About the case? Sure." Good Lord, for someone usually mild, Lindsay can be really prickly. Wiping her hands, she sank into the chair dramatically. "So, any new discoveries yet?"

I didn't miss the double meaning in her words. But seriously, we_ need_ to talk! I sighed; maybe we'll talk some time later.

* * *

Do review! I think my muse says they're going to have a little chat soon. 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Geez, this chapter took me several tries to upload. Anyway, now that it's working, read and review, please. Everything is unbeta-ed, so all the errors and weird stuff you see come from me.

* * *

**Lies and Truths **

Sure, we needed to talk, I agreed with him there. Sorting out our thoughts and feelings for each other, however, was not on my to-do list that day. Lack of restful sleep was making me behave like a cranky two year old, and I knew it. I was still sore that my only effort to make the office more…_me_…had just shattered, literally. Plus, even if I wanted to talk, Mac was coming our way, and I could see him through the glass windows.

"Quit frowning at me, Messer, open the file and have a look." My voice rose to a higher pitch at the end and I winced as Danny picked the file up, sulking. I really hadn't meant to be so nasty; it just came out like that. Mac entered before Danny could open the file, his presence loud.

"Danny, Lindsay," He nodded at us, "How's your case going?"

I glanced at the folder in Danny's hands. "DNA results just arrived."

Mac raised an eyebrow as if to say "And?"

"We've not read it yet."

"But we were about to, then you stepped in," Danny continued before Mac could probe more. He gave us both a strange, pointed look instead. Then again, I could've been hallucinating.

He cleared his throat, and for a moment I pictured a cloud of thoughts hanging over his head. "Alright, then what is this mess on the floor?" Ever the observant CSI.

This time, two pairs of eyes were trained on me, and a bubble of anger surfaced in me. "_Just_ a snow globe." I looked at the patch of oil and sighed inwardly. It was once a pretty orb with plastic molded pieces, put together to form a miniature model of the State Park back home. I'd purchased it a few days prior to my leaving for New York, during my final trip around the state; its sole purpose was to encase memories, sweet and painful alike. Home is where the heart is. I think the curt tone I had used (I swear it just slipped out) made Mac raise an eyebrow in my direction. Again, that strange look. Perhaps a change of topic was necessary.

I grabbed the folder out of Danny's hand and opened it, disliking that I was turning into a virago in their eyes.

* * *

She flipped the front cover up with more force than necessary and I decided to carefully avoid eye contact with Mac. The boss man was definitely picking up on the iffy atmosphere that seemed to be thick as smog in the office. Two tables, two chairs, two sets of computers, and glass walls. How did this room get so crowded with so few things?

After a very long and awkward ten seconds, Lindsay finally spoke. "Helen lied; DNA does not belong to an Ethan."

I moved closer to have a look; she nudged the folder so I could read from it. "Who's this Thomas K. guy then?"

Then it seemed fate decided to save me (and Lindsay) by sending Stella and Hawkes into the office. They started jabbering on quickly about some break in their case and yanked Mac (who was intent on observing the dynamics between Lindsay and I like we were participants playing against each other in the International Chess Olympiad) out of the office. I couldn't help but glare back when Stella winked at me before they disappeared into some lab.

"It seems we need to have a little chat with Miss Helen DeGauss." Lindsay broke the silence after we watched their disappearing backs. I nodded in agreement. If we could find out who Thomas K. was, and what his semen was doing on her, the case could probably be solved faster.

After some scheduling, we confirmed on meeting Helen at a café just out of her campus. The rest of the afternoon was spent there, conversing with Helen, and having a painfully quiet late lunch after she left. Not to mention uncomfortable car rides to and from the café.

* * *

The café was decorated with such cheerful colors and designs it felt wrong asking Helen about her misfortune in it.

"Who's the guy, your boyfriends buddy? What's his name again?" Danny asked her, after she stared at us with wide eyes and quivering lips for five minutes. Her eyes darted, surveying her surroundings, before focusing wearily on me. Smart girl, I mused, she knew something was up.

"Ethan," she twirled the ice in her drink with the straw, "Isn't remembering facts like this part of your job?"

I struggled to rein my temper in with patience. "Yeah, but see, darling, our job is to seek the truth. Right now, I'm remembering the fact that you lied." I almost regretted opening my mouth, but when Helen's brave stance faltered, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a Dummy's guide to Interrogations. Maybe then, things would be less confusing?

"Who raped you, Helen?" An exasperated sigh escaped my lips.

The ice cubes clinked in her glass again, and my head started pounding. I felt like growling when she replied with a freaking "Nobody".

"Sure as hell ain't nobdy, Helen." Danny voiced the thoughts in my head out. Right on.

* * *

Who was this girl trying to kid? Did we look stupid? Lindsay looked like she was going to pounce across the table and strangle the girl, who seemed to have decided that the table mat was interesting enough for her to fix her attention on. You'd think the table mat grew eyes and was communicating with her via ESP.

"Look Helen, remember Detective Flack? He spoke to Ethan," she looked up for a second, worry in her eyes, before fiddling with the table mat, "Uh-huh, Detective Flack hunted Ethan down. And the three of us? We thought he was guilty of a heinous crime. But then, guess what? Ethan had an alibi, and the DNA we found on your body belongs to a Thomas K. So pardon us if we don't believe that '_nobody_' raped you." I was ready to bang my forehead (or hers) against the table if she denied the evidence.

Lindsay clicked the top of her pen and started speaking. "You're wasting our time. You came to us for help, and we intend to give you that. Yes, we admire you for your bravery. Yes, we're sorry you had to go through the pain. All we want is for you to tell us how you got to know Thomas K so intimately. Or if you knew he was in jail for theft just one year ago." The tone she used was one I had learnt not to mess with.

As we both gave her grim smiles, she caved, her back hunched in resignation. "He is, was, my boyfriend."

Well, ain't that grand? We're dealing with a psychotic abusive boyfriend. Tears spilled across her face and I felt Lindsay slump, beside me, into the cushioned seats.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Two chapters at once. Sorry for the long wait, I've been insanely busy.

* * *

**Attention **

The three of us were silent, Danny had outrage written all across his face, Helen was weeping quietly, and I was using my hand to support my forehead. In the background, I had a chirpy voice going, "Welcome, please have a seat!" and the clatter of cutlery against porcelain plates. The café reverberated with light hearted chatter, and I guess to someone looking in, it must've been pretty odd seeing us, a triangle of silence.

"He raped you?" Danny asked, in a hushed whisper.

Helen nodded, tears cascading down her cheeks. I wished, oh how I wished, I could reach over and pull her into a hug, and forget that she had lied to me. But I couldn't, Mac would threaten to suspend me, saying I was getting too emotionally involved in the case. Sometimes, I really hate my job.

"I'm sorry, but we need you to tell us how." I tried my best to sound cool and calm. However, when Danny cast a look tinged with concern I concluded I had not sounded as collected as I had intended. Helen started sobbing earnestly. I sighed when the noise in the café ceased abruptly and two dozen pairs of eyes bored into our backs. _Crap._ Everyone's attention was settling on us like a rash.

"Enjoy your food, people!" Danny muttered under his breath and cursed, "Hey, why not we take this outside?"

Helen nodded and followed Danny out of the café, I trailed behind, still aware that the two dozen pairs of eyes were following us out.

* * *

"Okay, here's some Kleenex." I watched as Lindsay pulled some out from her pants pocket and handed it to the girl. I recognized the look on her face. It was the same one she got in the mermaid case, the one which hints she's possibly going to go OCD about the case. Helen blew her nose noisily; I diverted my attention to her.

"Everything I told you was true. Except the Ethan part." She sniffled, and her hands twisted at the damp piece of tissue; it reminded me of a Mobius strip. "He brought me wine and pushed me into the couch and raped me. Said I was a slut and sluts were supposed to give him good sex anytime he wants." I looked at Lindsay. Uh oh, no good. "I said something like I'm not a slut and I was not gonna sleep with him just because he wanted to get lucky. He pinned me down and I started crying. He didn't like that. So he slapped me and I tried to push him away. But I couldn't!" Her voice was getting higher and louder and I was thankful the parking lot was empty at that time of the day. "My arms were too heavy and I couldn't move. So I tried to kick him in the balls but I missed and he grew madder."

Lindsay crossed her arms over her chest and I scuffed the ground with one foot. The tissue in Helen's hands was crumbling and she grew more distraught. "Then he started yelling and the next thing I knew I was in intense pain and his fist was up in my…up there. I fainted when he was on top of me. The next morning I woke up and my couch was drenched with blood, and there was a note cello taped to my forehead saying I'll die if I tell anyone. The signed it with 'Love, Thomas'. I…I just got afraid, so I used Ethan's name."

There was a lot more hiccupping when Lindsay spoke and I realized I had been staring at Helen so hard my eyes hurt. "Do you still have the note?"

"I threw it away." She wailed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Helen."

I scratched my head and pondered on my next course of action. I was going to offer to drive her back to campus when she suddenly looked up, "But I haven't taken my trash out yet!"

"You think you can get it for us?"

"Uh yeah," Her tissue dropped and she bent down to pick it up, "But I have class in twenty minutes."

Lindsay smiled a loose smile, "That's alright. We'll drop by your apartment tomorrow morning."

Helen nodded and sighed, turning away from us. "If you get him, can you ask him why?"

"Yes, I promise." What was Lindsay doing! I glared at her, but she didn't notice. If she did, she chose to ignore me as she gave Helen a smile of compassion.

"We'll keep in touch." I said, and let Helen walk the ten minutes back to campus. Once she was out of earshot, I grabbed Lindsay's arm.

* * *

What the hell did he think he was doing? "Danny, let go of me!"

He did. "Montana, you're doing it again."

"Don't call me that. What am I doing again?"

"You're getting too emotionally involved, Lindsay." I made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Concern, and something else I couldn't recognize, but it rendered me speechless. "You can't just promise things just because her story's sad and all. You gotta…I dunno, you gotta focus on being more…less sympathetic. I'm not gonna let you ask 'why' to a perp a million times again." He was unraveling me slowly and I had to put a stop to that.

"I won't." If anything, his tenderness towards me despite all my efforts to push him away just made me fall in love with him even more.

Doubt was dancing in his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, I promise. And I still don't feel like talking to you."

I watched as he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. It was a bad thing to do but I was angry and I felt like hurting him a bit more. "Unlike you, I don't make promises I can't keep." I noted with pleasure as guilt flashed across his features.

I've never really felt love before and when I do, the object of my affection speaks to me like I'm vermin in her eyes. Fine, I had asked for it, didn't mean I liked it though. It seems I have to find a better way to say 'I'm sorry'.

"We haven't eaten yet, let's get something." I suggested. Actually, I was demanding, and was honestly surprised when Lindsay agreed.

She raked a hand through her hair and looked at me, her expression unreadable. "Good, I'm hungry. And I've been eyeing that hamburger since we first set foot here."

I wanted to laugh, but it barely made its way up my throat. "Okay." I followed her into the café, the door chime hit the glass panel and rang merrily into the wind, and grimaced as once again, two dozen pairs of eyes stared as us.

* * *

A/N: Do tell me if my characters are wonky. Read and review, please. 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hope you like :D It took me sometime to figure out this one.

* * *

**Notes **

During the very quiet meal and return journey to the lab, I got to thinking about a plethora of things. Jackass boyfriends, inhumane criminals, crazy co-workers, and it struck me that I was glad Danny was with me on this case. Things were a little awkward, and truth be told, my anger had abated and all I wanted now was an explanation. He didn't owe me a life, but he did owe me a reason. Now that outrage and hurt was no longer controlling my frontal lobe, I realized with a pinch of guilt that I had be snarky and a little childish. So I promised myself (and Danny) no more of that puerile behavior. Certainly we could behave like two adults?

The next morning went by quickly. We retrieved the note from Helen and ran it for fingerprints. Thankfully, they were a perfect match to Thomas K. Our search had ended, and Flack's had just begun. He was a tad disgruntled when we called him during his lunch break and prodded him to find the suspect.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys owe me a meatball sub," He grumbled before hanging up.

What lay ahead of Danny and I now was the interrogation. I didn't want to do it, Danny's reminder about Sarah, well, forced me to see that I _was_ getting too emotionally involved. As I stared in the murky cup of coffee, I decided that it was a more prudent course to let Danny handle it.

* * *

We were sitting across each other at one of those small circular bar tables in the break room; so close, yet so far. She looked lost in thought, and I was content just watching her.

"Hmm, Danny?"

I looked up, and was pleasantly surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face. The surprise must have registered on my face, because Lindsay gave me a sheepish grin, stared into her coffee cup, and started picking on the Styrofoam.

"Will you…will you do the interrogation later? I don't want to screw up."

I nodded, liking the blush that had settled on her cheeks. Like it or not, I knew her well enough to know she wouldn't tell me all her thought processes, or share all her feelings with me, so the very fact that she admitted that she had entertained the thought that she might "screw up" meant she was trying to say something in less direct ways.

"Kay, thanks."

Maybe I should say something? Yes, I should. "No problem, and Lindsay, you won't screw up."

She gave me a flitting flash of her dimples before standing up and going to the counter to refill her cup. I was watching the steam escape the coffee pot when Don strode in looking harried. "Suspects here, don't you guys ever eat lunch?" We both made unintelligible sounds and followed him to the interrogation room. We were so used to not eating lunch at all it was no longer an issue.

Thomas was a handsome man; green eyes, dark hair, aquiline nose. He barely fit into the tight polo shirt he was wearing and the bulging biceps beneath his sleeves were well sculpted. I concluded he frequented a gym and was probably strong. Mighty strong enough to push a five-five woman down if need be. I bristled at the way he eyed Lindsay – leering with suppressed malevolence.

"Commit any crimes lately, Thomas?"

He leaned back into the chair and folded his arms, "Nope."

"Alright, do you know Miss Helen DeGauss then?" I pushed the photograph forward and made sure he looked at it.

Green eyes glittered in defiance, "Nope." Lindsay snorted and he looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"DNA doesn't lie, Thomas," I kept the photo in the case folder, "Tell us how we found your sperm on Helen."

"Black magic, telekinesis, I don't know, you tell me." He smirked and winked suggestively at Lindsay.

"Fine. You drugged her, hit her, and raped her. Then you taped this note," I retrieved it from the folder and slid it across the table, "on her forehead. Subtle way of warning her to stay quiet, huh? Ever told her you were in jail before you asked her out?"

As he put on a mask of anger and gritted his teeth, I knew we had nailed him. Nah, we had squished him to the wall. "I'm gonna kill that slut."

"No you aren't, you'll be having the time of your life in jail. I'm sure you know how much the guys in high security love pretty boy child beaters and rapists."

"I want a lawyer," Thomas banged the table with his fists, making it rattle hard enough for both Lindsay and I to remove our hands from the table, "I want one now!"

* * *

"Sure you do, Thomas, but just how much can one help you? Before we let these guys take you away, tell me something. Why did you do it?"

He cussed at me, vulgarities spewing forth like from a broken faucet in the sewer. Two of the uniforms stepped in to haul him away just as he lunged forward.

"Bastard. Son of a bitch. Motherf…" I was muttering under my breath as I pushed the chairs in.

"Lindsay!" Danny laughed. So did I. It felt nice laughing with him again.

"What, can't I cuss?" I teased and gathered the materials into the file.

"'Course you can, but first, let's close this case file officially."

I groaned; paperwork was so not fun.

We were seated at our tables in the glass office which made me feel like a goldfish in an aquarium, facing each other, doing our paperwork when Danny finally broke the silence that had settled in the space between us for the better of half an hour. "You seem calmer," he stated.

I flipped the page before me and went to the next, "Uh-huh."

There was a rustling of paper and he tossed a scrunched up ball of paper to me. I uncrumpled it and couldn't help but smile.

_I'm sorry. _

I replied him. _I know.

* * *

_

At 5 pm, we had completed our paperwork and the crumpled piece of paper was going to be a memento I intended to keep for a very long time. What can I say? Montana brought up my sentimental side.

_I'm sorry.  
I know.  
Can you forgive me?  
I don't know.  
Please?  
Would you forgive me if I kissed another man?  
That depends.  
On?  
The circumstances.  
OK, smart ass, what kind of circumstances? Do elaborate.  
It's a long story.  
Really? I want to hear this one. But not now, we have paperwork.  
After work, I'll tell you. (If you let me.)  
OK.  
Can I ask you out for some pizza?  
Sure, but only if your story's as good as the pizza.  
It is, I think.  
OK.  
It really isn't what you think.  
ALRIGHT, I'll keep an open mind. The faster we finish these papers, the earlier you'll get to tell your wonderful story._

Lindsay threw the paper ball back, chuckled lowly, and concentrated on the papers stacked on her desk. I stole glances at her, a small frown between her brows and a tendril of hair which she kept pushing back falling into her face. Perhaps absence had made the heart fonder, because I longed to run my fingers through her hair. I started fretting about what to say later that night.

* * *

A/N: Alright, that's the end of this chapter, I'm in the midst of figuring out the next one. Read and Review, please.  



	9. Chapter 9

A/N: warning, I couldn't help but add angst, it wasn't the original plan...it just happened. I'm thinking this fic will be completed in another 2 or 3 chapters.

**'Tis **

I wanted to hear what Danny had to say; I couldn't wait for what he had to say. In my head I was hitting my knees praying it was forgivable. I thought I might just die in the pizza place if he told me I had meant nothing. Perhaps I wouldn't fall flat-faced into the pan of pizza, but I'll just die inside like shriveled up prunes.

Because I thought I loved him. I didn't think I was able to tell him that yet, but I knew it inside. Part of me had been shattered so long ago and no amount of glue could hold it up straight; that had been something worth leaving behind. A series of conflicting feelings ran through me and I wondered if I really knew what love was. God knew I wanted to.

At five we clocked out and went to the locker room to get our belongings. Danny kept looking at me, and I kept stealing glances at him. He looked nervous and worried, that in turn made me worried. My head was spinning, so I appreciated the silence between us. Mac came in a little while later demanding that we stop dawdling and to get a good night sleep. Before he left the room, he turned back to remind us he didn't want to see us for at least twelve hours. Danny "_yes sir_"ed and I nodded, before walking out of the lab towards Danny's car.

I had gotten used to the silent rides and this one was no different. This time the pithy quiet between us was like a tightly wounded spring threatening to hit us unconscious. I was grateful for the radio filling up that gap with noise. Lights were flying by me and the glass was cool against my forehead. The city was so colorful and vibrant that it was almost ironic that so many people find reasons to die in it everyday. I felt Danny's eyes on me and leaned back into the seat. Skyscrapers loomed before me, and all I saw were concrete buildings adorned with lights and layers of dirt and grime. I wasn't about to wish to turn back time and delete the existence of my NYC experience, but there are times I desired to be able to see undisturbed skylines and rolling hills.

Soon, Danny parked the car and I recognized the familiar setting. We were at Joe's Pizza, a place we hadn't been to in ages due to trying schedules and DB's that insisted on being found near dinner time. I stepped in and sank into the seat of a cozy booth in the back corner, the scent of oil and cheese mingled in the air, and my stomach rumbled. I watched as Danny ordered the pizza and started fiddling with his napkin. Some time passed and the food arrived, he had yet to say anything.

I served myself and sighed, "You can tell me your great story now, Danny."

* * *

I was a grown man! Why was I so nervous about giving her a simple explanation? It wasn't even rocket science, and it shouldn't even be worrying.

"That woman was Lisa, she was an ex-girlfriend." I saw the look in her eyes and hurriedly added, "From high school. Anyway, we haven't been in contact since graduation and she's getting married soon. That kiss was only a goodbye kiss. _And,_ she kissed me first. I swear, Lindsay, it was nothing else."

She wore a vaguely incredulous look. "That's it?"

I nodded, a little sheepishly.

"This is your long story? It was barely half a minute long."

I struggled to find a come back line, "I can be concise."

"I can tell," she bit into the pizza and pulled a string of melted cheese that had stretched and flopped down her chin.

"So, uh… do the circumstances entitle forgiveness?"

A pensive look crossed her face, "why should I believe you?"

Thoughts were formulating in my head and before I could find a coherent one, she smiled, "I forgive you." Huh, that got me confused.

"Really?"

* * *

He looked at me with skepticism in his eyes and I had to let out a laugh. Then I sobered myself and stared at him before speaking. "You've got that look that says you're not lying. Maybe you think you've got your poker face perfected, but whenever I see that look, I know you're being honest. Besides," I pointed the edge of my pizza in his direction, "I _want_ to believe you." He had been searching for words to say and something flashed in his eyes, the blue contorting into a twisted river that bubbled with verity.

He smirked that classic smirk that had made me fall in love with him. I felt like I was falling – beautifully, gracefully, with pointed toes, a gorgeous skirt and glitter in my hair. I didn't know how exactly to describe the look he displayed on his face whenever he was being passionately truthful, neither did I comprehend the feelings within me that convinced me to buy the story he was selling. Was that love? Was love an enormous enough force to make any resolve we make for ourselves pliant?

"There's more to that story, and now since I've got your trust, I can tell you later, after pizza." I wondered if he knew what his voice sounded like at that moment. He had intended to sound cute, but it was, in fact, soft and rumbly. It reminded me of thunder rolling in the distant, where the sound traveled across the country side, rolled off valleys and melted into the lakes.

He was growing confident and I wondered what was up his sleeves. I must've wondered out loud because he threw me a cocky grin and teased, "Two beautiful biceps that you like. A lot."

I rolled my eyes, but the sides of my lips twitched upwards on their own accord. It felt great, this calm after the storm. I'm a distant person, always have been. It wasn't that I had zero emotions, but I boxed them up, labeled them, and kept them in a shelf until they were covered in dust. That way I'm in control; that way things will never explode in my face. Yet, ever since I came to New York the boxes have been rattled and torn open, and I was spending way too much time taping them back up. It seems, try as I may, no matter how much duct tape I use, emotions seep through the cracks and engulf me when I least expect it, or when I least desired it.

* * *

We finished the pizza and she cocked her head at me, asking me to tell her what I had intended to earlier on. I grew nervous again, butterflies were ricocheting off my stomach lining. I had the need to evade the question in her eyes a little while longer and paid the bill before standing up and stretching out a hand to Lindsay. It was a tentative action for her, but she took my hand and pulled herself up._ Perfect fit. _I remembered the first time I held her hand. I guided her out of the pizza place and we both leaned against the car.

"I think you've stalled enough," she spoke, curiosity evident.

I closed my eyes, and willed the courage to find its way to my being. This was it. It was the best opportunity I've had since my revelation and I was not about to let it go.

Things were moving in slow motion as I took a step closer, invading her personal space. "I love you." The words left my mouth in a whisper and I watched as Lindsay's eyes flicked to the cars whizzing past us in the background. Two seconds later, she looked back up, searching my eyes with hers. Her eyes had always told me what I needed to know, and I was disappointed when they darkened. She was guarding herself and she knew that I knew it.

I stepped back, "I'll drive you home." It was a relief to let her know how I really felt, but the results…left much to be desired. She swallowed and I unlocked the car doors. Things were going back to awkward again.

The journey to her apartment was silent, as had any drive with her for the past week. When we arrived under her apartment complex she reached over and touched my arm.

"Danny, I..uh…"

I turned to face her, but fixed my eyes on the clutch, "It's okay. Don't say anything you don't mean."

"Um," her fingers left me and she unbuckled her seat belt, "I was going to say I didn't know you felt that way. Can we…maybe, talk about this tomorrow morning?"

I nodded dumbly.

She opened the door, "I need some time to sort things out."

I nodded again. 'Course she did, what kind of idiot confesses his love for a woman after pissing her off severely?

"I don't dislike you, Danny," Lindsay said quietly before closing the door and running up to the elevator.

I drove off into the dark and ran my hand over my face, why did things never go my way?

* * *

A/N: Do review. I need constructive negative feedback, and please tell me if what I write is believable. Thank you. 


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I had some fun doing this chapter. However, the process nearly killed me.

* * *

**Insight **

I jabbed the button in the elevator and wringed my hands impatiently as it made a slow ascent. I felt like I was going crazy. After fumbling for my keys, I jammed it impatiently into my door lock and pushed myself in. My heart had morphed into a bunny with floppy ears.

He loves me, he loves me, _helovesme_.

And I had hurt him so much, judging from the dismay in his face. A thousand thoughts were whirring in my head and my mind was a jumbled mess. Was that guilt? I don't know. I don't know what I felt. I hopped into bed after a cold shower and pulled the covers over me, trying to gather as much warmth the flannel could provide. One thought popped out from among the one thousand. Wouldn't it be nice to have someone near, near enough to hear his heartbeat and the sheets rustling under his feet, after a long day at work?

A little voice nagged at me. _Oh, but Lindsay, you already know who that someone is to be._

Suddenly I felt wistful, and something tugged at the hollow in my chest, I twisted to my side and buried my face into the pillow. Another thought emerged among the remaining nine hundred and ninety nine. Why did I feel like singing 'Cowboy, take me away'?

_Maybe because you wished that could happen. And it could, really, if you'd just tell him how you feel._

I was searching for something, finding confirmation. Why was it that finding a piece of evidence in matters of the heart so difficult? I drifted into sleep a while later, exhaustion taking over my body and my soul. I was tired; tired of thinking.

* * *

I went to the lab early in the morning with less than three hours of sleep, to put it simply, last night sucked and I was eager to put it behind me. I was hoping to snag a case before Lindsay came in, so we wouldn't have to deal with each other, at least for a few more hours. DB in lower Manhattan, Mac said, and Stella was already there. I drove to my destination, sighing in relief that there was work for me to do. 

"Hey, Danny! Over here!" Stella called over from behind the crime scene tape. I nodded in acknowledgement of her greeting and ducked under the tape.

"Mornin'"

We spent the whole morning processing the scene, and were sitting at the curb of the road resting while the coroners took the body back to the morgue. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing, why?" I tried to sound nonchalant, I really did, but Stella knows me better than that.

"Aww, spit it out already, you've been awfully quiet this morning." She slung an arm across my shoulders and pulled me closer, "Come on, Danny, you can tell me."

"Stella, you already know what's wrong."

"Lindsay," I nodded, "Still?"

I treasured the friendships I had forged in the lab because they were strong. Amazingly strong. I don't know if it's the long hours or the fact that we deal with the fragility of human life every day, but we were a loyal bunch. Stella was one of those people I could trust, not just because she was like the elder sister I never had, but also because she loved and cared so much more than most people ever had for me. And like that, the events of the night before poured out of my mouth in clipped sentences and awkward sighs.

"She said she didn't dislike you?"

"Yeah, verbatim," I nodded glumly.

Stella stood up and lifted her kit off the ground, I copied her actions, "I don't think she meant to hurt you."

"What are you saying?" Something in the way she spoke was weird, like there was something she knew that I didn't.

She opened the door to her van and tossed her kit in. "She may have said something to me last week that's not in my place to tell you. But… you wanna know my take of the situation? I think she's confused."

"Confused, about what?"

Thumping me good-naturedly on the back, Stella leaned against her van, "About you. We have to go back to the lab, talk to her soon, will ya?"

I sighed again and nodded, it was sooner or later after all.

* * *

When I arrived at work, Mac greeted me once I entered my office. "Good, you're here, I was looking for you. I want you to work on Hawkes' case, here's the file. He's in the DNA lab." 

I agreed (not like I had a choice, really) and went off in search of Sheldon. I found him and Adam staring at a computer screen and they waved at me distractedly. "Lindsay, can you go get the DB info from Sid?"

I left for the morgue, where Sid was looking pensive over the dead body, which I presumed was our vic. "Hello, what do you have for me?"

Sid gestured for me to stand closer and take a look, "This guy," he paused, I think for dramatic effect, "has Styrofoam balls in his stomach." Okay, that was weird. He passed me a small Petri dish with a sample.

Looking at me from the gap above his glasses, he said, "COD: asphyxiation, TOD: sometime last night." He then showed me some tattoos he found on the guy's butt and grinned when I blushed as I took the photos.

"So how's my favorite CSI doing?" He asked just as I was about to leave the morgue, the vic's naked ass still imprinted in my vision.

I smirked, "Stella?" Sid was a funny, funny man.

He laughed, "So modest, how are you?"

"What do you mean 'how am I'?" I frowned, "Fine, how else would I be?"

"You know," he chuckled, "I was in love once, with this fine red head. She was beautiful, and everything she did was beautiful, too. We did good until she found out I worked with expired people and she ran, said death scared her. And since then…"

I smiled patiently at the way he was swaying his head theatrically, "Sid, is there a point to your story?"

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there," he sighed and pulled off his gloves, "Since then I've been able to see love. Or well, maybe just lust. You know, Lindsay, I told you some time ago Danny calls you 'Montana' because he had a crush on you. I was right, wasn't I?" He chuckled and smirked to himself, "Now, both of you look sad because you're both in love with each other. Trouble in paradise?"

"You knew about us?" _No way_, he couldn't be that perceptive.

"Now I know for sure." He gave me a knowing grin, "You better go back before Mac yells at you."

I nodded and turned to push open the door.

"Oh, and Lindsay? Brief is life, but love is long." He gave me one final smile and went back to the body.

"Thank you, Sid." I called, before leaving, and going back to where I last saw Hawkes.

* * *

The rest of the day went on without a single halt, Stella and I had already formulated a few theories, that we could confirm the next day. We were having tea after shift, having skipped lunch, in her office. Both of us were silent; Stella had closed her eyes, only opening them when she wanted to take a swig from her coffee mug, I was staring at the clock on her desk. 

I was counting the seconds when Stella finally sat up, putting the mug down. "You thought about what to say to her yet?"

I shook my head, "No."

Stella placed her chin on her fist and looked at me. I sighed loudly, letting all the air in my lungs out. "I doubt she's the small talk kind of girl, so you probably won't have to say much."

"I don't know."

"Well, 'be of courage, and make ready, faint heart never won fair lady'." She smiled, and cocked her head in the direction of the glass panels behind me.

I caught sight of Lindsay's back disappearing down the corridor, towards our office.

Stella, great friend that she was, plucked the cup out of my hands, "Go. See you in the morning."

I got up to my feet and stretched, "Good night, Stella." Faint heart never won fair lady, and if all of that didn't go well, a good ball game with Flack may just ease the pain for a few hours.

* * *

A/N: Read and review! P.S. I was refering to 'Cowboy, Take me Away' by the Dixie Chicks, just in case there's confusion. :P  



	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This fic is coming to an end, and this is most probably the second last chapter. :) I hope it's a good one, and I also hope it's not painful to read. Without further ado...

* * *

**Found **

It was time to go home. While I was tired, I had been a little disappointed that I hadn't seen Danny the whole day. The little conversation with Sid Hammerback in the morning was evidence, I found. In my gut I always knew Danny was something else – no one had ever evoked such strong emotions – and it was my conscious effort to suppress all those feelings that had made me doubt myself. I played with the reclining chair for a while and sat up with a start when the office door opened.

"Danny."

He smiled at me – a half-hearted, weary smile, and I cringed. "Hi."

He sat at his desk and looked at me for a while, before looking down and picking on the case folder before him.

"Um, can I say…urgh! Danny, I'm sorry about last night." I was fumbling for the right words and was suddenly aware of our glass enclosure.

He didn't look up, but slouched a little in response. I panicked - how was I going to do this?

"I, um, can we go to the roof?"

There was a little head bob, and Danny stood up, staring at the air beside me, "I guess."

"Good."

* * *

She was stuttering and it was cute; in my head I just kept hearing Stella's voice. _Faint heart never won fair lady. _It struck me there and then, what the hell was I going to say? 'I love you' had already failed once and I was not going to test the theory that third time's the charm. Lindsay was obviously trying to tell me something, and if I wasn't wrong, the lack of privacy, despite it being our _own _damned office, was upsetting her. She suggested going to the roof. I agreed.

On the roof we could scream or cry and no one would hear; no one would care. It was a brief thought but it crossed my mind, was it freedom? Or pathetic loneliness?

I followed behind her up the stairwell, and out into the sunlight. The sun setting in the summer was gorgeous, and the NYC view never fails to amaze me.

"Danny," she took a half step closer to me, and looked up, "are you alright?" Despite the gorgeous skyline, Lindsay grabbed my attention, I suppose she always will. She was almost on her toes and I wanted to kiss her. Unfortunately, I did not want to risk getting slapped.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen," I let out a huge sigh and mustered all the courage in me, "you may not feel the same way, but it doesn't mean that anything I said last night wasn't true. I just wish we hadn't hit that rough patch and I'm really sorry about…"

"Shush," two fingers touched my lips deftly and Lindsay moved closer, her eyes softening and glowing like whiskey in the light, "No more apologies. Yesterday I was unsure about myself, not about you. I wasn't sure if I really, truly love you and I was afraid that I would make a mistake. It wasn't really about you hurting me, and I'm not gonna lie, I was very hurt."

I chewed on my lip, unable to predict what she was going to say next.

"I said I forgive you, and I meant it. You know me well enough, Danny, I don't usually say things I don't mean."

I nodded, "You don't have to, Lindsay, and that's one of the things I like most about you."

She blushed slightly and a particularly strong gust of wind swept her hair into her face.

* * *

I pushed the hair out of my eyes and sighed, "Well, today, Sid spoke to me and made me realize that I've been making myself miserable." I smiled at the surprise in his eyes, I had yet to tell him about what Sid said to me a few months back. "I may not be the most eloquent and cogent person you know, but please believe me when I say I love you too."

That was it; the heaviest stone in my heart vaporized into light perfume and fluttering doves. All I had to do next was wait for his response.

Stunned silence, a giantess looming over my head, was all that met me and I decided that there was a need to say more just to fill the gap. "Danny, I don't know what to say, I'm really bad at these things and…"

* * *

It surprised me for a moment and I stared at her, wide eyed. Did Lindsay just say she loves me? A little burst of euphoria exploded in me and I heard her start to talk again. No, there was no need for words. In my mind's eye I saw Stella's smirk and I reached over, looped an arm around Lindsay's waist and kissed her.

She jumped, but leaned in and I tasted the cream from her coffee. The air grew colder around us but it didn't matter. This was the roof, not the lab, and the roof was a place for spontaneous events with no care for procedures and logic.

In that kiss, spontaneous as it may have been, I found comfort and love and a queer sensation, akin to the feel of soft feathers from a sparrow's tail, in my chest. As her arms wrapped tightly around me, I looked into her eyes and found a promise of something beautiful and sacred – trust, faith and hope.

* * *

I sighed and buried my head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his soap. Maybe the right thing to do had nothing to do with the right words to say. Everything I wanted at that moment I found in his kiss and in his touch. The summer air was heavy and sweet, and the sunset couldn't be more beautiful.

"Lindsay." He murmured into my ear.

I stopped him, "Montana. I missed that."

Danny smiled, the tiny bashful one he only showed on special occasions, the one which brought out the rose in his cheeks and the little boy in him. "Montana, we're good?"

"Uh-huh."

His features clouded with curiosity, "Stella said she knew something, but she wouldn't tell me what. What did you tell her last week?"

"That I thought I loved you." Fireworks, a full spectrum of colors, a couple of floating ribbons, soft petals crimson against satin sheets; in that brief second my mind wandered into a churning vortex and I sighed, contentedly.

"What did Hammerback say?" He asked next, and I had to smile.

* * *

She pecked my cheek before saying, "That's a story for another time, cowboy." Grabbing hold on my hand, she tugged me towards the stairwell.

"Anymore interesting revelations to tell me?" I nudged her gently once we reached the locker room. I was intrigued; what kind of secrets did this woman hold?

Lindsay grinned mirthfully. "Take me out and come home with me and I'll tell you."

I hugged her, and realized how much I had missed holding her close to me. She sighed and sagged against me, "I missed you."

"Me too, Montana." The words just left my mouth when Hawkes and Flack decided to storm into the room.

"Yo! Danny, there's a ball game going on later. Wanna come?" Flack hollered and then did a double take when he saw Lindsay. Hawkes roared with laughter at the shock on Flack's face. "When did this happen?"

Lacing her fingers with mine, Lindsay chuckled, "I don't know."

"It happened when we found each other dear." I said softly, mainly for her to hear. Then the rest of the world faded when she reached up and kissed me tenderly, and all I could hear was Flack's gagging, and Hawkes' laughter, and my mind reeling with soft romantic tunes I haven't thought of in years.

* * *

A/N: Do read and review.. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Epilogue **

I sat on the couch in the apartment, nursing a glass of water, listening to the Christmas music playing over the radio. The sun had set long ago in the late afternoon, and as I looked out of the window I could see a Christmas tree in the apartment across. Warm hues and sparkly baubles diffused by curtains – it reminded me of home. Our current apartment was cozy but plain, and to say the truth, I missed the huge family gatherings with cousins thrice removed and fifteen children running around. The music stopped for a while as the DJ wished us all a wonderful Christmas Eve. I sighed and watched as my breath condensed on the window pane; this wasn't the way I had planned to spend the eve. It wasn't Danny's fault either because Mac was short of a CSI to investigate a murder reported at five thirty a.m. that morning.

Danny had crawled out of bed sighing and groaning as I stared at him disappointedly.

"Mac says he's sorry but I gotta work," I opened my mouth but he spoke before I could say anything, "No, Montana, you can't come along, there's a reason why Mac asked for me only."

I sighed. Two days ago I called in sick after heaving my lungs out, and when Danny came over after shift I was keeled over in the couch running a fever. Food poisoning, the doctor said, and I was to spend Christmas not eating any turkey or seafood. "Fine," I told Danny, "but come back soon."

"I'll try." He gave me a lingering kiss before stepping into the shower.

Thirteen hours later and I was still waiting for him to return. He called at six in the evening, telling me that he was sorry but our dinner reservations at the restaurant had to be cancelled. I sighed again, and told him to wish Stella, who was working the case with him, merry Christmas on my behalf.

Eight thirty p.m. and I decided to switch the radio off and move into the bedroom to read a book. Maybe when I was done with all 658 pages Danny would be back to share the last half hour of Christmas Eve with me.

* * *

It was late and I had been glancing at the clock since seven thirty. Stella gave me a commiserating smile as she leaned across the lab table to put together a piece of the puzzle. My first Christmas with Lindsay and I was stuck in the cold sterile lab – so not what I had wanted. When I called during dinner break, Lindsay sounded despondent and I felt a little guilty, but she understood the strings that came with the job so I wasn't too worried about her bursting into tears. She was probably just annoyed to have to stay in her apartment for the whole day, eating porridge and watching daytime TV.

At ten p.m. Mac finally popped his head in and told us it was alright if we went home. He didn't want to completely ruin Christmas. I was too tired to whoop for joy and Stella just stumbled into the locker room alongside me. I retrieved my belongings and was about to leave when Stella put a hand on my shoulder.

Turning to look at her, I was surprised to see an unhappy light in her eyes. "Stella, you okay?"

"I'm fine. I was just wondering, since you cancelled your dinner reservations, and if I know Lindsay at all she's probably still waiting for you to get back before she eats, if the two of you would like coming to my place for supper."

I hesitated for some time and she turned back to her locker, "It's alright if you don't wanna come, the two of you deserve time together. See you again, Danny."

"Um, Stella?" She was lonely. "I was just thinking if Mac was coming too."

Her eyes clouded and she shook her head, "No, he spends every Christmas alone mourning Claire. It's his time alone with her."

I hugged her and said, "Stell, I'll go back and ask Lindsay. If she's up to it, and isn't still puking, we'll come for dinner." After Frankie, Stella was never quite the same.

She chuckled and slammed her locker door shut. "Well, I'll be cooking. So call me if you're coming."

When I entered Lindsay's apartment, there was light from under the bedroom door. "Montana?" I called as I pushed open the door and couldn't resist smirking when I caught sight of her – hair tumbling over her face and a copy of _Jane Eyre_ lying across her stomach.

* * *

"Wake up, love," I heard Danny's voice interrupt Mr. Rochester and blinked in confusion. It took a few moments before I realized that I had been dreaming and woke up promptly.

"I'm sorry I'm back so late," He murmured and took his jacket off, "Are you feeling better?"

To prove a point, I hopped out of bed, "Yes."

His laughter was laced with tiredness and I embraced him, "How did the case go?"

"No where, but Mac says Stella and I will get tomorrow off." Danny spoke into my hair and I rubbed circles into his back. "Have you eaten?"

"No…waiting for you."

"Feel like going to Stella's for supper?"

"Huh?"

"She invited both of us to have supper with her if you agree to. She's lonely, Montana."

"I've known that for a while," I said. Stella, as much as she pretended to be over it, wasn't unscathed from Frankie's torture. "Why not you go shower, I'll call her and say we're coming." Danny smiled, stroked my cheek, and made his way to the shower.

I dialed Stella's number and as I told her we were coming, could practically feel her spirits lift over the line. After Frankie, she didn't date anyone else, and the only men she spoke to for more than ten seconds were those in the lab. I think she played matchmaker for Danny and I not just because she thought we were good for each other, but also because she was living life vicariously through us. As much as I wanted quality time with Danny, supper would be a form of thanks. And friendship; true friendship was a precious possession I was unwilling to let go off.

I changed and sat by the window, waiting for Danny to be done. The street below the apartment complex was quiet, and if I listened hard enough, I could hear faint tunes of _Amazing Grace_ drifting up. The bathroom door opened and Danny emerged, hair wet and toes dripping. A big smile found its way to my face. Christmas was the time for giving and sharing.

* * *

Lindsay was facing me with a radiant smile as I made my way to her. "What's up, Montana?" I asked her softly and she reached up to kiss me. It wasn't passionate, and it wasn't filled with desire; it was meaningful and I couldn't really explain why.

"Nothing," she grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the door, "let's get to Stella's quick, I'm starving."

It was wonderful the way she made me smile, even when every pore in my body was steeped in fatigue. The journey we took to Stella's apartment was filled with comfortable silence and Lindsay was looking out of the window or fiddling with the buttons on her blouse most of the time. I humored her by playing some Lee Ann Womack CD she like so much and noticed a tiny smile they never quite disappeared for the whole night.

We could smell the aroma of baked chicken wafting across the corridors and were salivating by the time we reached Stella's doorstep. The door swung open and a very cheerful Stella greeted us.

"Hi! I hope you two are hungry. I've missed you at the lab, Lindsay." I peered over her shoulders and was pleasantly aware that there was an assortment of dishes large enough that I could feast on. The meal was wonderful and Stella appeared to be much happier than she had been at ten fifteen p.m. We stayed at her place till after midnight, clinking glasses when the clock struck twelve, and sharing anecdotes about life in general. It was only when I started yawning did Lindsay stand up and told Stella we were leaving.

"Thanks for coming," Stella said, "I know you two had plans."

Lindsay laughed, "Our plans didn't have food as good as yours."

A few hugs were exchanged, and we left hand in hand.

Back at the apartment, we collapsed in bed after changing into pajamas. I pulled her closer and she sighed contentedly, "Merry Christmas, Danny."

I smiled the smile I saved for her and kissed her softly, "Merry Christmas."

I had found Lindsay when the evidence pointed to her, when solitude seemed more than empty without her, when looking her meant more than a distraction. As she fell asleep curled against me at three a.m. on Christmas morning, I felt thankful. And all the prayers lost over the past year were finally delivered to me as I closed my eyes and drifted asleep with the comforting warmth of Lindsay around me.

* * *

_Faith is the daring of the soul to go farther than it can see._

A/N: That marks the end of the entire fic, and I hope you've enjoyed reading. Do review, and see me again once I am being attacked by more plot bunnies. And yes, it's a little too early to be thinking about Christmas, I'm weird like that.


End file.
